My Fiancée Made Me Share Underwear with Her Male Best Friend
Language: en
My fiancée, Chloe, had just given me a pair of Armani boxers. I smiled as I pulled them out of the bag—until I saw it. A short, dark, curly hair clung to the fabric. My stomach lurched. I grabbed a tissue, peeled the hair off, and marched to Chloe, my pulse hammering. Holding up the tissue, I said coldly, “What’s this, Chloe? Don’t tell me it’s a factory defect or some store mistake.” Her face went pale, eyes darting like she was searching for an excuse. Then Ryan, her so-called best friend, stepped in, voice shaky but pretending to be calm. “Jake, don’t blame Chloe. It’s my fault. I…